The Salt of Life
by IndigoRiot
Summary: 'Spencer stopped laughing immediately, feeling as though someone had simultaneously punched him in the gut and pulled the plug of his mind. Everything in his head went fizzy and blank while his stomach seemed to be auditioning for this year's gymnastic Olympics. "Mariam?" he repeated dumbly.' Set some years in the future. T-for language and themes. SpencerxMariam goodness. :3


' **Pass me your phone, I'll bloody do it for you.'**

Spencer shuffled his lecture notes around impatiently and wiped the presentation screen clear, calling an end to the lecture. An early end to the lecture because he felt like taking an early lunch. Tala had inflicted Spencer with a phone-call this morning to let him know he'd be dropping by later and, in doing so, had denied Spencer his breakfast. He didn't have the chance to grab something to eat as he drove to campus so his stomach had been growling for the last twenty minutes. Stomach growls had become unfamiliar to him years ago and their unwelcome return was something he wanted to rectify sooner rather than later.

Spencer finished clearing the lecture desk and passing away his things when he saw, from the corner of his vision, an unfortunately familiar flash of deep, golden blonde. He sighed.

There was a certain girl in his microbiology class and she _seemed_ to be _after_ him. She was forever hanging back after seminars or lectures, asking about this assignment or that reading. Spencer had hoped that she was just one of _those_ students – ambitious, an overachiever. He could deal with those. In fact, he was actually rather fond them and their willingness to make the most out of their education.

But this girl... she was always just a little too done-up and the light in her eyes was nothing short of… besotted. It made him feel very uncomfortable. Tala was always the ladies' man. He'd be much better suited to dealing with such things.

While the rest of the normal students piled in the aisles to leave the lecture theatre, Spencer made a show of piling his papers and arranging them into his briefcase, checking his watch for the time and pretending not to notice the girl at all. She cleared her throat, not deterred in the least, and he shriveled up a little on the inside.

"Oh, Karina, I didn't see you there. Is something the matter?"

The girl grinned brightly and Spencer immediately regretted calling her by name. Stupid. It must have looked as though he considered her to be memorable. He tutored hundreds of students daily and he remembered each and every one of their names, of course - his memory was impeccable. But he didn't want it to _look_ like he went to the effort of remembering her name. What was he thinking?

"Well, yes, actually. It's just – I'm worried about my paper."

Spencer was worried about her eyes. She seemed to be blinking far more than should ever be necessary. "Okay," he said and offered her a mechanical smile, "what's the problem?"

"The references!" she exclaimed airily, flicking her long, curling golden locks over her shoulder. The smell of oranges and passion fruit wafted over him. Spencer hated citrus fruits. He tried not to gag as she continued talking. "I'm sure I'm doing them wrong and I _really_ don't want to miss out on marks because of a stray dash or period here and there." She looked up at him forlornly.

"Oh, I understand," he croaked, low on air through the sheer effort of not breathing. He stepped away to deposit his briefcase on the floor on the other side of his desk and gulped in some blessedly fresh, unscented air. "The University is quite pedantic about its regulations," he continued. "Have you taken a look at the reference guide on WebCT? It's a bit of a lengthy document but it has clear examples which explain the procedure for laying out each -"

"Yes, I have, I've seen it," she said nodding breathlessly, her eyes large and doe-like. "I've been pouring over it _all_ weekend but I'm still just so confused."

"That's… quite alright, references can be very confusing. In that case," Spencer said, picking his coat up from the back of his seat, "I suggest you go and see Meredith Ervine. She hosts an essay-advice workshop each Wednesday and Thursday in the Arts building and would be more than happy to -"

"Well I've actually got my assignment with me now," she tittered desperately, placing her handbag on the desk and rifling through it. "I was hoping you might be able to -"

"Well well, what's this Dr Petrov - a private tutorial?"

Karina gasped and spun around to look for the source of the voice at the back of the room; her hair almost slapped Spencer in the face and this time he audibly choked as he was once again smothered by the awful sickly-sweet scent of citrus fruits.

"Tala," he coughed. "You - you're early!"

"Yes. And I can see you weren't expecting me," he replied walking down the theatre steps, grinning wolfishly. "She's very pretty, Spencer."

"Excuse me?" Spencer spluttered. "What are you insinuating, exactly?" The girl merely spluttered, almost beside herself with embarrassment.

"Nothing," Tala teased innocently as he came to stand beside them, "nothing at all. And at least nothing that _you_ should be ashamed of," he said directly to the girl. "I understand completely, he really is quite the attractive catch, isn't he? Young and rich and intelligent… and strong," he said playfully, wrapping an arm around Spencer and giving his bicep a little squeeze. Spencer froze solid, his mind a second or two behind schedule. What the fuck did Tala think he was doing? "Unfortunately, he's taken," Tala smiled sassily, leaning his weight against Spencer's stone-stiff side.

Spencer's eyes bulged. What.

The girl took the hint and turned from white to red to plum in a matter of seconds. "Oh! I - I'm sorry," she stammered, "I just forgot that I'm class to my next late – I mean, I'm forget to my late – I mean – _sorry_!" she squeaked and all but sprinted up the aisle.

"Hey gorgeous, don't forget this," Tala called, waving her handbag around in his free hand.

The girl reluctantly returned, snatched the bag hurriedly and then ran up the stairs again. The entire time she looked very much like she wished the ground would swallow her whole. Spencer felt much the same. He viciously unwound his arm from Tala's and balled his hands into fists. He took a deep breath.

"I am going to murder you," he said calmly, turning to face the redhead.

Tala laughed. "Is that a threat, Doctor Petrov?" he asked, flashing his shiny new detective's badge playfully. "Do we need to take a walk down to the station?"

Spencer didn't rise to the joke. "What the fuck was that?" he said, brandishing his hand into thin air as though a holographic image of his mortification could be seen there.

"Oh lighten up, Spence," Tala shrugged. "I was rescuing you!"

"By making her think I'm gay?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing. Besides, it's better than having her simpering around after you all the time. You're such a fucking white-knight," Tala said, proceeding over to the front row of seats. He somehow managed to sprawl himself out over three of the seats and, with a bit of a adjusting and a wiggle of his backside, seemed to decide that he was finally comfortable enough. "I mean, you probably wouldn't even swat at a fly if she was laying her eggs all over you."

Spencer pulled a face at the unpleasant image. "Okay. That is disgusting. And she's not a fly, Tala, she's one of my students. Unfortunately," he conceded.

"Unfortunately is right. Did you notice how close together her eyes were?"

"Don't be mean."

"I'm prettier than she is," he said stubbornly, folding his arms. "You should be flattered I went to that effort for you."

Spencer snorted, finally cracking a smile. He perched himself on the edge of the desk and leant there, putting his hands in his pockets. It had been months since he last saw Tala, but they slipped back so easily into their old ways they might as well have met up yesterday. Jokes and camaraderie and idle threats: some things would never change no matter how different their lives became. Speaking of which.

"How's Julia?" Spencer asked.

Tala threw his head back and groaned. "Don't even get me started. You know, on Friday she kicked me out bed at 2am – _2am!_ – and sent me to the 24/7 for some strawberry ice-cream and cheesy breadsticks!" he cried, exasperated. "She _hates_ cheese! And we had raspberry-ripple in the freezer already and they're basically the same thing. But no. She wanted _strawberry ice-cream and cheesy fucking breadsticks at two o-clock in the morning_." He shook his head disbelievingly and laughed. "I think I'll actually sleep better once the baby arrives."

"How much longer now?"

"Three weeks, two days," he said automatically. Spencer smiled warmly and Tala didn't miss it. "What?"

"Nothing," Spencer shrugged, unconvincingly.

When Tala made the phone-call all those months ago to announce that he was going to be a dad, Spencer thought it was the craziest thing in the world. Of all of his friends, Tala would surely be the _last_ of them to fall into domesticated life. Hell, Spencer would've put his money on Bryan first. The eagle's instinct for fatherhood showed strong in his relationship with his kid brother. In fact, if it weren't for Rachel's flighty, non-committal disposition, he was sure they'd've settled down by now.

But it was plain to see that Tala and Julia had something really special. Tala loved her like the sun itself. He gave up his career in the army for her, moved to the States so that she wouldn't have to leave the dance theatre and found a steady job that would keep him close to home. All for her. As much as Tala might gripe and complain, Spencer knew that there wasn't a damn thing on earth that he wouldn't do to make her happy.

The blonde had to admit, he was a little envious of the way his friend's life had panned out so far. Pleased and happy for him, yes, but envious all the same.

"Oh, yeah, I almost forgot why I'm here," Tala said suddenly, bringing Spencer out of his thoughts. "You'll never guess who I saw pass by on the streets yesterday."

"Your freedom?" Spencer snarked.

"Ha ha," Tala toned dryly. Then he grinned smugly. "Actually, I saw yours."

Well that made no sense whatsoever. Spencer frowned. "What do you mean?"

Tala scoffed and raised an eyebrow. "Oh come on. Your flighty temptress," he announced dramatically, "your cobalt-haired muse of discovery and adventure!"

Spencer was so put off by this ridiculous display that he did nothing but laugh into his hand for a few moments. "Alright. Now I have no idea what you're talking about."

"God, you're as quick as a brick today, aren't you. Thick as one too," he jabbed, rolling his eyes. "I'm talking about Mariam!"

Spencer stopped laughing immediately, feeling as though someone had simultaneously punched him in the gut and pulled the plug of his mind. Everything in his head went fizzy and blank while his stomach seemed to be auditioning for this year's gymnastic Olympics. "Mariam?" he repeated dumbly.

"Yes, Mariam," Tala chimed slowly as though he were speaking to a two-year old.

The snarky half of Spencer's head registered his tone of voice and thought, _Fine, he'll have one soon enough, he needs the practice_. The other half was numb and simply thought _Mariam_.

"Here? Where? Why? What was she doing? She's supposed to be in Canada monitoring the astral fissure," he recalled automatically.

"Well, she's back," Tala said simply, not baffled at all by Spencer's numerous questions. He picked idly at one of his fingernails. "I was working a case and bumped into her outside a bookstore."

"…How is she?" Spencer asked, trying not to sound too eager.

He smirked. "She's alright, I guess. Couldn't stop to chat too long, obviously, but she seems fine."

"What's she doing in town?"

"How the hell should I know? Why don't you ask her yourself?"

Spencer blinked. "How?" He asked dumbly.

Tala broke down into a fit of laughter. Spencer never enjoyed feeling like he was the butt of a joke but right now, he was a little too star-struck to care much. "Oh my god, you're a university professor of all things and you don't even – _just phone her_ , Spence!"

The blonde spluttered. "Just ph - no. No, I can't. Just out of the blue?"

"Text her, then. Pass me your phone, I'll bloody do it for you," he said, holding hand out lazily.

"Absolutely not," Spencer said, folding his arms stubbornly. He was beginning to feel a little warm in the face.

"Why?"

"Because, I just – it's like – what does it have to do with you anyway?" Spencer said hotly.

"I'm not stupid, Spencer, there's obviously something going on between the two of you -"

"What? There's absolutely nothing -"

"And I _know_ something went down in Barbados," he continued smugly.

Spencer felt himself go red in the face.

Of course, Tala had no idea what happened in Barbados, how could he? There wasn't a single soul alive that Spencer had told about that treasured memory. He thought about it often – when the winter's first, unforgivingly cold wind rolled through the town, or when he grew tired of marking a stack of papers in the small hours of the morning, or when he accidentally awoke too early and watched the morning's sunrise alone over a steaming mug of coffee – but even then, it was nothing more than a memory. It was something he held onto and cherished, like a memento of a time long passed that he knew he wouldn't get again.

"Look, I know it's not my business and I'm not going to muscle in, I promise," Tala said seriously, getting to his feet and straightening his jacket. "I could tell you Julia put me up to this, but that'd be a lie. I just wanna see you happy, man. There's more to life than all this," he said, gesturing around the empty lecture theatre. "More to living than a good job, than all these books and learning and research. Trust me on that."

Tala began to wind his way through the seats and back up the aisle. At the top of the stairs, he stopped and turned back.

"Mariam did ask about you, you know. She wanted to know how you were doing," he shrugged with a small smile, as though it were no big deal. But with those few words, Spencer felt his heart kick it up a gear. "Anyway, she's only in town for the next couple weeks, so if you're going to get in touch with her, make it quick."

* * *

Spencer threw his coat and briefcase down onto the loveseat and then collapsed dejectedly into the other half. What a day. The weather was terrible, the traffic was terrible and the Burger King he scarfed down in the car was punishing him. His stomach twisted and turned, although that might have as much to do with Mariam's presence in town as it did the burger.

Mariam…

Spencer stood up and went about the motions of placing his coat up on the hook where it should be and opened his briefcase. He planned on going over his lecture notes once more before the evening was through, but the phone in his pocket was a heavy and distracting weight. The blonde ran weary fingers through his hair, sighed, and pulled it out. He stared long and hard at, seeing only his own troubled reflection on the screen. Then his eyes were pulled away from the phone and onto the picture frame that hung above the fireplace. A simple photo of a group of people on a beach that was the key to so many memories.

It was from the expedition to the water caves below Barbados two years ago. The island itself was a bit of a geographical curiosity; due to the tectonics of the area it was slowly, almost imperceptibly, rising each and every year. Below the island was the biggest known fossilized coral reef. He and a small team of researchers from the University and some freelance agents were sent into the recently discovered caves to excavate and collect samples for study. Mariam was, of course, one of those freelance agents – she was, in fact, the one who had first brought news of the caves to the University.

Mariam was convinced that the fossils there – undiscovered and untouched for thousands of years – might prove the missing evolutionary link between the spiritual, astrological bitbeasts and their extinct physical forms on earth. Her excitement was tangible and infectious and Spencer had felt as though he was on a constant caffeine rush the entire time. In total, they spent five weeks exploring the caves and documenting their finds; the excavation was beyond fruitful. Spencer had no end of things to report and had all but rewritten his entire thesis during his time there.

On their last night in Barbados, the team held a farewell party before going their separate ways. The festivities were… interesting, to say the least. He was fairly certain that each person present consumed enough alcohol to cap the limit for the entire group, himself included. Everyone was lightheaded with celebration. The collective sense of joy and exhilaration was overwhelming - as was the heat that night, and one thing eventually lead to the other…

Even through his drunken haze, no detail of that night had escaped him. There was no way he could forget the feel of her against him, more warm and soft and _right_ than anything he could ever imagine; the way she smelled, all earth and spice and smoke, and how it clouded his mind; the way her fair skin shone beneath the stars, iridescent and hypnotizing and more beautiful than the moon itself; the way she said his name…

Spencer heaved a heavy sigh and tossed his phone to the floor. It rolled under the coffee table and out of sight. He held his head in his hands.

He wanted so desperately to believe that that night might have meant something. Hell, it meant something to _him._ He wouldn't go as far to say that it meant _everything_ to him, but if he was honest, that was only because he didn't want to condemn himself to a lifetime of disappointment if it didn't mean anything to _her_.

Two years. It had been two years since that night and neither of them had mentioned a word to the other about it. Sure, they'd spoken or emailed, briefly and professionally. About digs and finds and opinions on fossils. About politics and the economy. About the weather and the state of the world. About how much beyblade had changed. About how much their friends had changed. But never about themselves.

Spencer was just about to call it a night when the carpet beneath his coffee table began to vibrate. He looked at it, puzzled for a moment. Then realization hit him like a brick.

"Shit," he hissed, getting down on his knees and reaching under the table. He cursed again when the muscles in his arm prevented him from reaching any further in than his wrist. _Fuck it_ , he thought, picking up the entire table and shoving it to the side of the room. He snatched up the phone, looked at the caller ID and felt his heart stop.

Mariam.

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** _I had SO much fun writing this. I was working my way through this week's Gemini chapter but couldn't get this out of my head. I'd had this as an idea for a one-shot way back in... 2012, 2013? Ages ago. Recently I stumbled across what I'd started to write (the first four paragraphs here) and couldn't help but to continue. It's been a while since I've so thoroughly enjoyed writing something the way I enjoyed writing this - so I hope you guys enjoy reading it!_

 _I have no idea when I started shipping Spencer and Mariam but oh my god do I ship them SO HARD._

 _Anyway, as always let me know what you think and if you'd like me to continue. I've got a rough idea of what I'd like to do with it, just need to decide where it should go in the priority pile. xD_

 _Thanks for reading!_

 _~ Indie_


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